


SKAM UK: Stephanie

by naveed



Series: SKAM UK [1]
Category: Original Work, SKAM (TV) RPF
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-06
Updated: 2019-05-24
Packaged: 2020-01-05 19:08:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18372275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/naveed/pseuds/naveed
Summary: my own remake based on the north of england ♡ we were robbed!more lesbians this time





	1. 1.1 - some things stay shit

**Author's Note:**

> finally getting round to posting this <33 there's a pinterest board but it has spoilers in it. saving that one for season 2 bc thats right hoes im gonna write em all............ love to ya xxx

“The United Kingdom is pretending to be something it's not. Our British values boast tolerance and democracy - but tolerance isn’t enough, and our public don't know what we're voting for. In 2016, we didn't vote for trade deals. We voted for xenophobia, under the guise of freedom. Because that's how it was sold to us, by the people who proudly claim to be so tolerant. But we need more than that. We need compassion. We need understanding.”

Jacob takes a deep breath and gazes ahead. The air around them is cool and fresh, warm rays of sun washed away by the gentle breeze. The sky is decorated with wispy white clouds, which fade into grey ahead of them. The wind blows it in their direction. “That’s all I’ve got.”

“It’s good,” Steph says after a moment.

“Good,” Jacob sighs, “it kind of needs to be perfect.”

“I’ll admit your accent softens the blow a little. Claire will probably tell you to fuck off back to Scotland if you’re that unhappy here. I bet she voted Leave an’ all.”

“That’s not the point.”

“Well,” Steph huffs. “your delivery was good. It’s a good speech. But you said tolerance a lot.” Steph starts picking at the grass between her legs, as Jacob shoves his work back in his bag. They both sigh at the same time. “I don’t know why you’re so stressed, anyway.” Steph looks up at him again with a reassuring smile. “You did really well on your mocks.”

Jacob smiles slightly, and leans in to catch his girlfriend in a kiss. The outdoors goes quiet around them. Steph’s hair tousles in the wind, strands blowing around like a million tiny kite strings behind her head. Jacob holds her hand in the grass. They feel like the only people in the world.

“Alright, alright, break it up. Break it up.”

Ollie slaps Steph and Jacob on the tops of their heads with his homework. “Public indecency,” he squats in between them, “and you’re a repeat offender. That’s two years.”

“Shut it,” Jacob mutters, squinting into the sunlight. “I’m sure you’ve done worse.”

“Oh, aye,” he nods, “regular Ted Bundy, me. So how about those mocks?”

“Seven,” Jacob says, still sounding disappointed with himself.

“Six,” Ollie proclaims. He turns to Steph, with an expectant grin. “And?”

“I’m not saying.”

“Aw, come on.” Ollie’s squat gives way and he falls on his butt with legs in front of him. “Jakey will tell me anyway, won’t you lad? Or I can just ask Claire. She’s got no boundaries, for a teacher.” He snorts to himself; “you weren’t there when she read Rory’s Tinder messages off his lockscreen.”

Steph keeps her eyes on the ground. There comes a point when Rory’s misery isn’t that funny. “I got a three.”

Ollie shrugs, but can’t suppress his grin. “That’s only one off a pass.”

“Shut up,” Steph groans. “You’re only retaking cause you missed the exam. I’m retaking cause I’m shit.”

“You’re not shit.” Jacob leans in front of Ollie to put his arm around her shoulder. “You’ll bounce back. You always do.”

It doesn’t feel like it. Jacob kisses her again, and she pushes back the bitterness in the sweet feeling that arises. Shit has happened – and she can’t stop it happening again. But is it really bouncing back if you just take a different path? Some things, you can’t dive back into. Maybe you’re better off out of them. Or maybe you just tell yourself that so you feel better about the fact you can’t bounce back after all. Some things just stay shit.

There are plenty of jobs you can do without GCSEs. Prostitution, for example.

“Jake, we’re gonna be late.”

Ollie gets up and starts to walk off, while Jacob gives Steph one last kiss. “You’re going?”

“He’s right,” Jacob says, swinging his bag onto his back. “Dan and Rory will be waiting. I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

Steph pouts at him until he looks back, sighs, and leans back in for one, two, three more kisses. Then he stands up, mouths a love you over his shoulder, and follows Ollie back to college.

The grey cloud in the sky ahead moves over the sun, and quickly the air gets a little colder. Steph puts on her own bag, but sits in the grass a little longer. Jacob was right. She can bounce back. It’s exams – GCSEs, no less. And no matter how annoyingly, Ollie was right too. One grade off a pass. It’ll be easy. She should just study more.

A shrill laugh travels through the air and breaks Steph out of her thoughts. To her left, two girls are laying down their jackets to sit on the grass. One girl shows the other something on her phone. She laughs again. The same distinctive, boisterous laugh as she’s always had. Steph could hear it from a mile away.

Now the air really is cold. Steph walks away before they see her.


	2. 1.2 - feral

Lady Macbeth was onto something.

It’s tempting, going feral. Sometimes Steph wishes she didn’t have morals so she could heed people to her command. Prove her worth over her peers. Kill someone, if necessary. Lady Macbeth is strong. She doesn’t get beaten about or bossed around. Lady Macbeth isn’t scared of anything. Stephanie Marshall is scared of elevators.

Lady Macbeth went mad, eventually. But Steph hasn’t got there yet.

 _Nothing_ is going in. Nothing at all. Steph is staring and staring and staring at the book, and still _nothing_. It doesn’t even look like words anymore. Just the alphabet in the wrong order. And then the alphabet just looks like a bunch of shapes, and then it’s just black and white. Then everything blurs into one, on the page and in her head, and it’s all just grey.

Steph lets out possibly the biggest sigh of her life, and reaches for her phone. Other people’s lives – the perfect distraction. Never has she ever been as interested in other people’s lives as when she’s trying to avoid her own. That’s how social media draws you in and plays on your insecurities. Jacob could have a field day writing a speech about that.

“Hey!” The bedroom door swings open, seemingly of its own accord. “Wagwan?”

Ollie bounds in and falls onto Steph’s bed next to her, making the mattress bounce heavily. Steph glares at him. “You need to knock. I could have been naked.”

“Good thing you’re not.”

“I didn’t even know you were here.”

“Nana let me in,” Ollie pulls a textbook out from under his stomach, “mum’s being weird so I’m sleeping here tonight.”

Steph nods sympathetically. Just one mention of Ollie’s mum to their Nana would get him anywhere he liked. “Look at this,” she hands her phone to Ollie. “Sian’s on ket.”

“As if,” Ollie snatches the phone out of her hands, staring at the video on the screen. “She’s mental,” he gawps. “She’s actually damaged.”

“I know,” Steph takes her phone back, apathetically tapping through the rest of the stories. “She’s never done it before, either. I reckon Izzy has, though.”

Ollie looks up at her, suddenly attentive. “Why do you still follow them?”

It’s not easy to forget your best friends. Steph wants to unfollow them – of course she does. If she could, she’d go full Lady Macbeth, and murder them for getting in the way of her personal growth. Self-love. But there’s nothing to grow into. There’s never been a life without Isabella and Sian.

She’s kind of scared to leave them behind. “I don’t know.”

Ollie sighs dramatically. “They’re just fake anyway. You need real friends again.”

“I’ve got you and Jacob.”

“Cousins and boyfriends don’t count,” Ollie sits up and crosses his legs. “And _we’re_ friends with Rory and Dan, and you hate Rory and Dan.”

“I don’t hate them.”

“You do, Steph,” Ollie chuckles, swinging his legs over the bed and standing up. She doesn’t hate them. They’re just… well, they’re annoying. Teenage boys must be behind on the evolutionary process to girls. That’s the Lady Macbeth speaking.

She opens Snapchat. One hour ago she asked Jacob to come over. He hasn’t opened it. She taps on a story from some girl in her Geography class, and sees Isabella sniffing what is also most likely ketamine. Crackhead. Fake. Why don’t you talk to me anymore? I’m better off without you. I miss you. Sket.

Ollie seems kind of restless. “I’m gonna go make cereal.”

Steph locks her phone and looks up at him with furrowed brows. “Have you got your meds with you?”

“One night won’t hurt,” he says, and closes the door behind him.


	3. 1.3 - stress-free zone

Steph, half-asleep, is picking the crust off her toastie. Well, toastie’s a strong word. The woman who normally makes them isn’t here, and her replacement is nowhere near as good – but she has herbs. The normal woman doesn’t have herbs. Steph was asked if she wanted oregano or cardamom. She panicked and said both. 

It tastes like shit. A shrill laugh bounces off the walls of the canteen.

“Hey!” A new face appears with a smile. She’s blonde and skinny and wearing two shades of blue. “You’ve just done your mocks right?”

Steph pushes her plate away. “Yeah.”

“Great,” the girl beams. “So, now that exams are over, me and a friend are working on creating a completely stress-free zone for everyone. So, we’re starting a group for students all across the college to hang out,” she takes a breath, “and it’s a chance for all students in first and second year and all the different classes to meet each other and make new friends.”

Steph nods. “Sure.”

“Do you think you’d be interested in joining?”

Steph can hear Ollie in the back of her head. Make friends, he says. “Yeah, maybe.”

The girl grins widely again. “Awesome. We’re all going out to the teen night at Superstars on Friday.” Trashy, Steph thinks. “I’ll be there and so will most people. It’d be great to see you!” The girl bounces her legs excitedly, and steps away from the table before Steph can reply. She stays with her back turned for a few moments.

Steph narrows her eyes. “Are you okay?”

“Just seeing if there’s anyone I haven’t spoken to.” The girl looks over in the direction of another loud laugh.

“I wouldn’t bother with them.”

The girl turns back around. “Why?”

Steph looks over at Isabella and Sian. They’re sat with some other girls who all look very similar, one of whom is eating a salad. It’s the only food on the table. They don’t see her. “They’re probably going already,” Steph looks back up to the girl, forcing a smile. “I mean, I saw it on Facebook. So. I wouldn’t bother. Or you could talk to them at the club, even.”

“Oh,” the girl nods, “cool. Well, I’ll see you then!” She waves over her shoulder and heads out the canteen quickly. Steph looks back down at her shit toastie. She’s hungry. She eats it. She didn’t even catch her name.


	4. 1.4 - dumbasses anonymous

**steffffy_** : some girl in the canteen came up to me today, she’s starting a some kind of social group for everyone at college

 **valentinowhitebag** : and

 **steffffy_** : she invited me to the 16-19 night at superstars do u wanna go?

 **valentinowhitebag** : do you really wanna go to some lame kids night at a nightclub

 **olliesws** : >acting like your not a lame kid yourself

 **olliesws** : i would come steffy but i should probably get back to mum

 **steffffy_** : i don’t wanna go on my own

 **valentinowhitebag** : okay i’ll come check it out but in return

 **valentinowhitebag** : can ollie come to the gig in manchester?

 **steffffy_** : that was meant to be my birthday preset

 **steffffy_** : i don’t wanna go with my dumbass cousin

 **steffffy_** : full offence ollie

 **valentinowhitebag** : no one’s buying my spare ticket

 **olliesws** : cuz u put it on depop lol

 **steffffy_** : fine whatever he can come

 **olliesws** : can i get that in writing

 **steffffy_** : it’s literally there

 **valentinowhitebag** : thank you babyyy

 **steffffy_** : 🖕❤

 **valentinowhitebag** : ollie pm me i need your bio homework

 **olliesws** : bold of you to assume ive ever done a piece of bio homework


	5. 1.5 - they're laughing at you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (i didnt proof read this, sorry if it shows. see if you can spot my one major change! <3)

Superstars Nightclub is thumping on the outside. Steph can smell the body odour from the street. Every time the door opens, a fresh wave of hot, stuffy air clouds the cool night around her.

She doesn’t have any ID on her. Do you need ID for a 16-19 night? Steph considers turning around and going home. Her dress is itchy at the armpits and she’s got a wedgie. She turns towards the wall and fishes her phone out of her bra. Her makeup is too thick. No it’s not. Okay, maybe it is. She itches her eye carefully in the front camera.

Jacob’s not coming. “Shit, was that tonight?” he said on the way out of Sociology. “Dan’s having a late birthday sesh. You know, we never got to do anything during mocks, so… I’ll make it up to you, I promise. I’m sorry.”

Jacob. Inconsiderate as always. Man, Steph doesn’t like to be bitter, but when she’s itchy and aching and sleep-deprived, it’s kind of hard not to be.

Whatever. Bite the bullet, Stephanie. Make friends. Have fun.

The bouncer asks if she’s got alcohol on her, and when she says no, he looks her up and down quickly, and seems to believe her. God, but she wishes she did.

The club isn’t exactly bursting at the seams, but it’s still pretty packed. Most people are stood in groups, American-style solo cups in hands. Probably just filled with lemonade. Appletiser, if you’re feeling classy. Steph approaches the bar where the purple flashing lights fade to orange, still ones. She sits down on a stool, and leans back against the bar. The world always seems to just go by in front of her. In situations like this, she feels especially disconnected. So, she just observes.

A few metres away, the girl from the canteen is shouting into Rory Freeman’s ear. Bailey Stafford is in the middle of the floor, loudly freestyling over Skepta. Sian slut drops and spills her drink. Steph looks to her left. At the other end of the bar, Weronika Marczyk is making out with a girl. Her hair used to be pink; now it’s blue.

Isabella comes into the orange light and waves at the barman. There’s one seat in between Weronika and her, and two between her and Steph.

Steph stares at her. Her long hair is tied up tightly on top of her head, and she flicks it dramatically over her shoulder. She doesn’t look over. That feeling from the other night comes back up – when Ollie asked why she still followed their Instagrams. It’s always been Izzy, Sian, and Steph. Then suddenly, it wasn’t. And now Isabella hasn’t spoken to her for about three months, and Steph completely and utterly hates herself for missing them. But it’s always been them. Steph takes in a deep breath of teenage body-odour, and moves one seat closer.

“Isabella,” she says. Isabella stares straight ahead. “Izzy,” she says, louder, and Isabella looks in the opposite direction. The barman hands her a new drink, and she turns around to face the club. Steph moves to the seat next to her. “Izzy.”

Isabella rolls her eyes and turns to face her, expectantly.

“You can’t ignore me forever.”

Isabella scoffs and takes a sip of her drink. Steph tries not to let her stance falter. “Just talk to me. I get it if you don’t wanna be friends right now,” Steph sighs, “but just talk to me! I can’t cope with this complete fucking radio silence.”

Isabella huffs and glances away again. She shakes her head, and when she looks back into Steph’s eyes, her expression is cold. “The makeup suits you,” she spits, “thick and slutty.”

Her ponytail spins as she turns around and walks away. Steph just watches her, upper lip going stiff. Isabella dances up to Sian, and they start laughing together. They’re laughing at you, Steph thinks.

“Did you know that girls who call other girls sluts have double the chance of getting chlamydia?”

A blonde girl is sat to Steph’s left. She’s drinking with a straw, smiling at Steph as she spins slightly on the barstool. Steph recognises her from one of her classes, and her name is on the tip of her tongue. She swallows the lump in her throat and says, “that can’t be true.”

The girl shrugs and puts her cup down. “Regardless, I think it should be.”

She’s Liverpudlian. Steph begins to smile. “Do we have Geography together? Or are you doing a GCSE?”

“Both,” the girl nods with a funny expression. “I do maths. How did you know?”

“I do English. Same classroom. I think we just pass each other sometimes.”

“Very observant,” the girl raises her eyebrows. She has a very expressive face. “Well, I’m Shannon,” she puts out her hand with a grin, “and I’m super smart, promise.”

“Stephanie,” she shakes the hand, “and I wish I could say the same.”

Shannon laughs and takes a final slurp from her straw. Her eyes must be such a pale shade, as they flicker and change colour with the lights around them. She seems super calm, like, really calm, compared to the hyper partygoers filling the building. Something about her presence right now is kind of intense. “I’m not staying, unfortunately,” she says as she picks up the straw, which Steph now notices is metal, and dries it on her cuff. She slides it into her trouser pocket as she stands up. “I’ll see you around? Geography, right?”

“Yeah, sure.”

Shannon tucks a thin strand of hair behind her ear and smiles again. “I think your makeup is super cool, by the way.”

And then she’s gone. Steph looks back out at the sea of people. Suddenly, she doesn’t recognise anyone, except for Isabella and the girl from the canteen, who appear to be standing off in the middle of the floor. Sian, Weronika, and Bailey have all disappeared. Isabella laughs in the girls face, and the girl hurries away from her. She’s upset her. This isn’t fun. Coming here was stupid.

Steph gets up so fast she could fall over, and wrestles her way to the bathroom, desperate for a breather. There’s a door to a hallway, then the door to the toilets, and Steph pushes past some guy until she’s below the white fluorescent lights, and leaning against the sink. She closes her eyes and tries her best to slow her breathing. An air freshener by the sink sprays lavender air in her direction.

Steph opens her eyes and stares at her makeup. Isabella says it’s slutty. Shannon says it’s cool. They fight in her head. Shannon punches Isabella in the face. Fuck you Isabella, Steph thinks. Shannon and I have Geography together. You’re just a bitch.

A loud sniff comes from one of the cubicles. Steph looks at in the mirror. She didn’t notice someone else was in here. There’s another quieter sniff, followed by a choked up sigh. Steph pushes her own conflict to the side and approaches the cubicle.

“Are you okay?”

Another sniff echoes off the tiles, and through a sob, she replies, “yeah.”

“You don’t sound it, babes,” Steph looks at her feet. The shadow in the cubicle moves slightly, and then the door opens. She pushes it slowly. It’s the girl from the canteen. The girl who ran away from Isabella. She wipes her nose on the back of her hand. Steph looks down to the toilet roll – empty, naturally – so she dips into the other cubicle and pulls some tissue off for her. “Do you want me to get someone for you?”

The girl sniffs again. “Could you find Bailey for me?”

“Yeah, of course,” Steph hands over the tissue. The girl takes it with a teary smile.

“Thank you.”

Bailey Stafford has returned to the centre of the floor for another Skepta song, only this time, he’s rapping the right words. Weronika is adlibbing in the gaps, egging him on. Steph taps him on the shoulder three times before he notices.

“Bailey?” she shouts over the music. Weronika watches her with an intrigued smile. Bailey stops rapping and nods, smoothing down his t-shirt. “A girl’s looking for you. In the bogs.”

Bailey and Weronika look between each other, and Bailey shrugs, following Steph away. Weronika doubles over with laughter, and shouts, “get in!” 

The corridor between toilets is markedly quieter, and Steph decides to likes it here much better. Maybe it’s time to go home. She makes sure Bailey stays put before opening the door to the ladies. 

“Hey,” she calls, and a different girl with big hair looks over at her from the cubicle. She shrugs at the girl who seems to still be crying behind the door, and comes over to Steph. “Um, I’ve got Bailey for her.”

The girl smiles at her blankly. “What?”

“Bailey,” Steph repeats, and Bailey saunters over to the door. He looks the girl up and down with a grin.

“Whoa,” she steps out of the bathroom and closes the door, laughing slightly. “I’m Bailey. Bailey Bird.”

Bailey Stafford’s grin gets impossibly wider. “No way.”

“Literally what are the chances?” Bailey Bird cheers with her arms out. The two pull each other into a bro-hug like they’ve known each other for years.

“I didn’t even know Bailey was a girl’s name!”

“Hope it’s not too threatening to your masculinity, eh?” Bailey Bird jabs him in the side. Bailey Stafford doesn’t seem to get it. “Hey, uh,” she turns back to Steph; “I should get back to Iona now.”

Iona. “Yeah,” Steph pushes Bailey Stafford away with an arm across the torso. “Sorry about this. I hope she’s okay.”

Nothing, _nothing_ , is more unfair that the power one popular girl can hold over her peers. Isabella thinks she’s invincible. She’s safe on her popular girl throne, free to bash around anyone further down the food chain. People like Iona probably mean nothing to her. Steph’s never seen them together before – they didn’t speak in the canteen – yet here, in a nightclub bathroom on 16-19 night, Iona is crying over something she said.

“Oi!” Bailey calls as Steph opens the door to the club. “Were we not gonna stop and chat?”

Steph rolls her eyes with her back turned. In another life, maybe.


	6. 2.1 - stalker

Shannon.

Not exactly a rare name. Steph feels weird typing it into Instagram, a bit stalker-y. She rolls over in bed and scrolls through the names. Verified models, a few YouTubers, one girl followed by Ollie (she checks; it’s not her). She reaches the bottom of the list. This is pointless and creepy.

She debates whether to continue. _Make friends_ , Ollie says in her head, and Steph is beginning to wish he never said that, because now she hears it all the time. She hits backspace a few times and searches for Shan. Then, there it is, first result and followed by another girl from Geography: shansurrey. She’s holding a gay flag in her profile photo. Steph wonders if she was flirting with her.

Cue the next dilemma: to follow or not to follow. They met Friday night, and now it’s Sunday. That’s not too soon, surely. Or is it too late? Is it weird to still be thinking about her two days later? If she was flirting, maybe she’d be flattered. Steph’s finger hovers over the button.

A loud knock on her bedroom door nearly scares her out of her skin. Steph goes to lock her phone, but when she glances at the screen, the blue button is white, and she’s pressed follow by accident. Great.

Her mum walks in before she even says yes. “Is Ollie here?”

Good afternoon to you too, mum. “No,” Steph doesn’t look up at her, “he’s not been since Thursday.”

“Ah,” Debbie nods and walks over to the bed, sitting on the very corner at Steph’s feet. “I wanted to invite Deana and him out for dinner tomorrow. You know, since she had her funny turn.”

Steph sits up with a loud sigh. “You can say psychotic episode, you know.”

Debbie flinches. “I just think that just sounds a bit violent.”

“He’d say no, anyway,” she shrugs. “He doesn’t really like anyone to butt in. And he’s coming with us to Manchester, remember?”

“I thought you were going with Isabella and Sian?”

“Aye,” Steph nods slowly, avoiding eye contact, “and Jacob and Ollie.”

“Jacob?” Debbie asks with raised eyebrows. Steph looks up at her, nervous. Now is not the time to be caught lying to your mum’s face. “How nice those two are still together.”

Steph forces a smile. “Aye, it is.”


End file.
